


fade to blue

by torkz



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Melancholy, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 20:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12540088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torkz/pseuds/torkz
Summary: Justin Oluransi thinks he could spend the rest of his life happy, as long as he’s got his hands on Jack Zimmermann. But anxiety is a bitch and so is miscommunication, and maybe it won’t be as easy as he thinks.





	fade to blue

**Author's Note:**

> So i got a “hesitant kiss” prompt on tumblr for anxiety bros for which I wrote nearly 1000 words. And then I couldn’t get them out of my head. So now this exists. I hope you like reading it as much as i loved writing it.

It’s 2 am and Justin Oluransi is currently laying on the bed of one Jack Zimmermann and they’re wrapped around each other like they’ll fall apart without it. Their legs are tangled together and Justin is sprawled diagonally across Jack’s chest, fingers slowly tracing the words of his text as he studies. Jack is propped up on a couple of pillows, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he reads one of his favorite books and his fingers tracing patterns under Justin’s shirt. The lights are just bright enough to see by, and the open window is letting in enough cool air to keep them comfortable, even as their body heat increases in all of the places they’re touching.

They’ve been like this for a few hours, silently enjoying each other’s company and getting the physical affection they need. It’s been a couple months since they started this, and Justin would be lying if he said he hadn’t developed a bit of a crush. It’s not surprising, a bro can only handle seeing so much of his most gorgeous bro in reading glasses before he grows weak.

Justin remembers when this began. They were sitting in the living room at the beginning of the year, Justin practically vibrating with anxiety and starving for touch, a fact he was unaware of until Jack patted his shoulder in a rare show of affection, and he melted into it. Jack had noticed immediately and he’d grabbed Justin by the hand, dragged him into his room, and cuddled right up to him, pretending not to feel the tears Justin was pretending not to shed. A few hours later, Justin got up to go, not wanting to overstay his welcome. Jack had pulled him into a hug and whispered that he was available for this anytime.

It’s happened a few times since, and Justin is still surprised every time; surprised that Jack wants to spend this time with him, surprised that this feels as natural as breathing for the two of them.

He’s learns a lot about Jack in this time. Jack is just as tactile as Justin is if not more; he’s never content to just cuddle, always needing their hands tangled together or to rub his fingers over Justin in some way. He also learns that Jack has a really nice laugh. When they aren’t studying or reading, they sometimes watch Netflix together or talk, and Justin has coaxed a couple of rumbling giggles out of him. His favorite thing by far, though, is how attentive Jack is; he always makes Justin feel like what he has to say is the only thing that matters. Honestly, it’s a wonder Justin didn’t fall in love with him sooner.

He’s suspected for a while that Jack likes guys too, but he knows how hard the past few years have been and he doesn't want to bring up anything that will make Jack more uncomfortable. It’s not easy, though. It gets harder each day to ignore the way Jack’s fingers burn like embers on his skin, the way his eyes linger just this side of too long on Justin’s lips, the way his eyes soften when he sees Justin coming. He wants to do something about it, but he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t know how, so he lays on Jack’s chest and he studies.

Justin looks up from his textbook to find Jack watching him. Jack always needs time before he speaks, so Justin waits him out.

“What are we?” Jack asks softly, voice rough from disuse, accent thick like maple syrup and Justin wants to taste it on his tongue.

“We just... are,” Justin responds.

“Okay,” Jack says, easy as anything. But he doesn’t pick up his book and his fingertips are moving across more of Justin’s skin.

Justin closes his book and sits up, straddling Jack’s hips. Jack’s hands don’t leave from under his shirt, and after a moment Justin just takes it off. He watches Jack look, and tries not to shiver when Jack’s other hand joins the first, touching, searching. Blunt fingernails scrape his sides before roaming up the muscles on his back. He lets Jack get his fill, and lets the tension in the air fill his lungs. It feels fragile, whatever this is, and he’s terrified that one wrong word will break the spell.

He speaks up anyway.

“Jack,” he says, and watches blue eyes meet his with something like fear, something like want. “What do you want us to be?”

Jack’s hand comes up and cups the back of Justin’s head and pulls him down, hovering for a split second before kissing him soundly. Justin sighs into it and moans softly, and Jack feels emboldened. He makes it his goal to pull more of those sounds out of the man in his lap.

Kissing Jack feels like electricity, like a live wire reminding him that he's alive, that life can be good.

It feels cool, like a light drizzle of rain that softens the air after a heatwave.

He feels like comfort, like a familiar hello, like a see you later because goodbyes are too final.

It feels like falling in love, falling too fast, and Justin thinks he's okay with getting his heart broken by Jack Zimmermann.

 

***********

 

It’s been a few weeks since Justin and Jack hooked up and Justin is comfortable calling things good. Neither he nor Jack have ever been the type to meet up every single day, and they aren’t about to start now just because things have changed. Justin misses him though. It’s hard not to want Jack Zimmermann after knowing what he looks like flushed and sated and silly, what his skin smells like when it’s sleep-warm and groggy, what he tastes like first thing in the morning, only just awake enough to whisper _yes_ and _please_ and _more_.

He starts to understand how someone could want to build an empire just for him to rule.

They don’t really talk about it. Outside of their occasional evenings together, things are the same. When Jack needs something, he still defaults to Shitty, and Justin still defaults to Holster. They don’t really do anything together unless it’s a team event or one of their obvious common interests. Justin thinks it should bother him, but it doesn’t. They do spend some time together that isn’t filled with sex or cuddling; he can’t count the times he’s gotten up early and hit the ice with Jack.

Watching Jack on the ice does something to Justin he can’t explain. Jack oozes talent and confidence like he’s made from it, and when he graces Justin with a sharp smile, Justin thinks he could be made of it too. It’s enthralling, exhausting, delicious. He thinks one of their favorite times together was after one of those private practices when, body still thrumming with adrenaline, he had given Jack just enough time to take off his most cumbersome gear before getting him off, his knees pressed to the locker room floor. Jack had pulled him up and kissed the taste of himself out of Justin’s mouth, before returning the favor.

Justin isn’t sure if he’ll ever get enough.

Still, he’s not ready for the intrusive questions or the speculation, so he tries to contain his desire as much as he can and makes sure his eyes don’t linger too long on Jack. He finds that difficult at their next kegster. This is one of the few Jack has decided to attend, and he’s nursing a beer, skin glowing from the heat of the bodies around him, and smiling softly at something Shitty said. Justin is watching him from his post on the wall, and he tears his eyes away before someone notices him staring. He looks up to see Holster making his way over, looking determined.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Holster says, just loudly enough that Justin can hear him over the music. He grabs Justin’s arm and starts dragging him outside.

“Why ask if you don’t want an answer, bro?” Justin mumbles confused, letting himself be pulled.

They make it outside to the front porch. It’s cold this time of year, and Justin lets the brisk air wrap around him and push out some of the warmth from the alcohol. It feels good. Holster is looking at him expectantly and Justin just blinks.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” he says.

“What, are you gonna fucking make me spell it out for you?” Holster says.

“Well I goddamn guess so since I don’t know why you dragged me out by the arm.”

“Come on, Justin, I thought we were bros,” Holster whines and Justin throws his hands up in the air.

“We are and I would talk to you if you would just FUCKING ask me whatever it is you want to know,” Justin says loudly, exasperated.

“When were you gonna tell me you were into Jack?” Holster says, tone sharp.

Justin takes a step back in surprise, and annoyance. He and Holster don’t do this. If a bro has a crush, you don’t bring it up until your bro is ready. It’s like, code or something. He doesn’t understand why Holster is acting like this.

“What is it to you? I’m not into anyone,” Justin says and winces, knowing his defensiveness gave him away.

“Oh, fuck you, like I don’t know what you look like when you’re crushing. It’s nothing I guess. If you want to go fucking the Ice Prince, I suppose it’s none of my goddamn business,” Holster says nastily.

“Do NOT call him that,” Justin spits back, eyes narrowed and shoulders tight. “I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but you’re right, it ISN’T any of your goddamn business. I’m going to assume you’re being a dick because you’re drunk so I’m going to leave. Get your shit together and figure out what your problem is and how to talk about it, because I won’t listen to you be an asshole, Birkholtz.”

Justin turns around and stomps back inside, vibrating with frustration, confusion, and a little bit of fear. If Holster has noticed, it’s not too far of a stretch to imagine that someone else has too, and the last thing he wants to do is ruin the good thing he and Jack have going. He wades through the sea of bodies and makes his way to the kitchen, determined to get back the drunken joy Holster took from him. He’ll deal with all of this later.

He’s taken four shots and is on his second cup of tub juice when Jack walks into the kitchen. Justin lights up and walks toward him.

“Jack! Hi!” Justin says, stumbling into him. Jack chuckles and catches him by the arms, hands warm and steady. Justin shivers a little.

“Hi,” Jack says, and smiles the smile Justin is convinced is just for him. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Well, we’re in the middle of a kegster and I really want to kiss you right now, so—“

“So probably too much,” Jack interrupts with a smirk and takes Justin’s cup from him. He pours it down the sink and replaces it with a bottle of water from the nearby fridge.

“Thanks,” Justin says, taking a small sip. He looks at Jack and sighs. “You’re so pretty. I like you.”

Jack laughs and grabs an Justin’s arm to swing around his shoulders. “Alright, Rans. I think it’s time for you to lay down.”

“You’re probably right.”

They make their way slowly up the steps, and Justin has his wits about him enough to protest when Jack tries to take him to the room he shares with Holster. Jack looks a little confused but turns without protest and sets Justin up in his room instead. He grabs the trash can and sits it next to the bed while Justin takes off most of his clothes and gets settled. He nuzzles into Jack’s pillow and smiles sleepy thanks up at Jack when he turns off the light. Jack pauses before turning back to Justin. He kisses him softly on the lips and pats his cheek before leaving.

Justin drifts off to dreams of hockey rough hands and the color blue.

 

***********

  
Justin, as it turns out, is not good at dealing with things later. He woke up only a couple hours after Jack had helped him to bed surrounded in the warmth of Jack’s arms. It had felt too good, and he felt too afraid, so he wriggled out and made his way upstairs to his own bed. Holster had fallen asleep in it, probably wallowing, so Justin took the bottom bunk and resolved not to mention anything one way or another.

When he wakes up a few hours later, he is (thankfully) without a hangover and only sporting a nasty taste in his mouth. He drags himself to the shower and just sits, letting the warm water wash away the grime of the previous night. The fear and general anxiety of what he and Jack have being taken away is thrumming under his skin. He knows he’s the problem, unable to get his crush under control so the affection he feels isn’t written all over his face.

As he starts to scrub, he makes a decision to back off of Jack. He can handle himself and he knows Jack was doing just fine before he came along anyway. He figures a little space will make his crush fade enough for him to get it back under control. Besides, Jack will barely even notice. That hurts a little to think, but he lets it run down into the drain with the suds on his body.

Plan decided, he gets out of the shower and dries off a bit, carrying his dirty clothes back to his room. When he gets there, Holster is sitting on the bottom bunk, hands clasped and looking sheepish. Justin just looks at him and sets to work picking out an outfit. He hears Holster take a deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Holster says.

Justin makes an acknowledging grunt Holster’s general direction.

“I was rude as hell, and being drunk wasn’t an excuse. But I’m just worried about you bro, Jack is not the love type—“

“Has anyone ever told you that you suck major dick at apologizing?” Justin says, still trying to decide on a shirt.

“Yes. You have.”

“You should listen to me more often, I know what I’m talking about.” Justin holds up a shirt triumphantly and starts wiggling into his underwear with his towel still around his waist.

Holster snorts. “Yes, I should. Come on Justin, let me finish.”

He takes Justin’s silence as an affirmative to continue.

“Okay. You’re my best bro. You know that. I meant it when I said that I was worried about you because— well you know I’m not Jack’s biggest fan. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little hurt that you didn’t tell me, and I guess I got belligerent and yeah.”

“Yeah,” Justin says, turning to Holster now that he finally has his clothes on.

Holster groans dramatically and stands up to drape himself over Justin.

“Bro. Broseph. Brotanabro Bay. Come on. You have to forgive me,” Holster whines loudly, and Justin rolls his eyes to keep himself from laughing as he shoves Holster off of him.

“Fine, you big baby. I forgive you,” Justin says, huffing a laugh when Holster fist pumps in victory.

“Come on, let me treat you to Annie’s. I know you’re some special brand of asshole that doesn’t get hangovers but I'm sure you could still use some coffee,” Holster says, walking to the bedroom door. “Oh, where were you last night, by the way?”

“I was in Jack’s room. He came into the kitchen and found me schwasted, and put me in his room when I told him I didn’t want to go to my own,” Justin answers, following Holster down the stairs. He allows himself a small smile at the thought of Jack’s consideration since Holster can’t see him.

Holster’s only response is a noise in this throat that sounds like _I understand, and I have something to say about that but I was an asshole so I’m going to keep my mouth shut_. Justin gets it and lets it be.

They’re passing the kitchen and Justin sees Jack sitting at the kitchen table, sipping at something with study materials and a textbook spread out all around him, probably preparing for the test Justin remembers he has on Tuesday. Jack must hear them as they pass because he looks up and Justin doesn’t notice how Jack’s eyes soften when he sees him.

Justin knows he should speak. He wants to; he feels a pull towards Jack like a tether in his heart and he wants to follow it, wants to sit and listen as Jack says anything or nothing at all. Instead, he offers a small nod as he follows Holster out of the door.

He pretends he doesn’t see Jack’s face fall.

He steps out of the door with Holster and the cold air is sharp in his lungs. Normally it feels good, he’s always loved the kind of weather people normally hate, like grey, gloomy days and too cold winds. Today, it exacerbates the heartache he’s resolutely ignoring. It reminds him how much he wants what he’s denying himself. It’s far too soon to be wallowing, so he lets the sound of Holster’s rambling wrap around him and hopes the cold will ease up on him soon.

 

****************

  
The past couple of weeks without Jack have not been kind on Justin. He didn’t realize how much Jack had contributed to his sense of peace and calm, how much of an effect their casual intimacy had on him. He's started to feel restless and itchy under his skin, and where he would normally let Jack’s hands soothe him, he's replaced with runs or long walks around campus. Justin knew that he was more than halfway in love with him, but he feels Jack’s absence like a chunk of him is gone, and it hasn’t gotten any easier to deal with.

He hasn't cut Jack off completely, that would be cruel and Justin Oluransi is not a cruel man. Instead, he's avoided spending really any time with him outside of the occasional few hours in Jack’s room, and he's cut off their sex life completely. Jack has never been the initiator but Justin noticed the gleam of disappointment the first time he left without seeking the warmth of Jack’s body. He's kind of noticed that Jack has been more closed off lately, avoiding eye contact, no longer initiating touch or inviting Justin back to his room, and it's a level of closed off that Justin hadn't anticipated.

Justin is torn between addressing it and letting it be.

On one hand, he doesn't want Jack to feel like he won't be there when needed, doesn't want to go back to the Jack he knew before all of this started. On the other hand, he doesn't want to force Jack to be with him or acknowledge him if he doesn't want to. Justin knows that he's a bit young and that Jack could find partners that do more for him, but he's selfish, and he can't give him up just yet.

It's one evening after a particularly brutal practice that it all comes to a head. Jack was relentless on his opponents and himself and hadn't left the ice after everyone else had gone to shower. He'd been silent and aggressive, so much so that even Shitty had advised against talking to him.

Justin mulls over that as he slowly takes off his gear and gets re dressed, ignoring Holster’s nudges to leave. He’s the last one in the locker room once Holster gives up and Jack still hasn't made an appearance. He decides to ignore Shitty’s advice and figure out what he can do to help Jack.

He throws his bag over his shoulder and walks to the edge of the rink where Jack is skating with sharp movements and shooting pucks into the goal. Justin watches him for a moment before speaking up.

“Hey,” he calls out.

Jack turns with surprised look on his face that quickly morphs into irritation when he sees who’s calling him. He ignores Justin’s greeting and shoots pucks with growing force.

“Hey, come on. Talk to me,” Justin says and is startled when Jack abruptly starts skating to him.

“Why should I bother?” Jack snarls.

“Because we’re friends? And I care about you?” Justin says, taken aback by Jack’s tone. He's two for two for generally kind bros being rude to him. It's not a score he's fond of.

“Are we? I've noticed you pulling away after your talk with Holster. I don't want you around if you don't want to be,” Jack says, looking like he’s itching to skate away from the conversation.

Justin regards him for a moment before stepping back out of the rink and taking a seat. He puts his skates on and glides out onto the ice.

“Come on.”

Jack scoffs but he follows, skating quickly away from Justin and doing a few laps. Justin figures he'll let Jack blow off some steam and follows lazily despite being exhausted from their earlier practice. There is obviously something Jack needs to say and it's only fair that Justin hears it. He watches Jack go and can't help but be struck by how at home Jack seems on the ice. It's like the stress is melting out of him, and Justin can see that this is Jack's equivalent of a love worn teddy that is pulled out when nothing else will do.

Jack slows and skates the center of the ice before stopping and crossing his arms, hands holding his elbows like it will keep him together. Justin skates up to him and waits him out.

“What did I do?” Jack says eventually.

“Other than being a bit of a dick today? Nothing that I know of,” Justin replies.

“So why have you started avoiding me?”

“I'm not avoiding you, Jack,” Justin says with a sigh. “It's just-- one of the guys noticed and asked me what was going on between us and--”

“And you're ashamed of me,” Jack says coldly, hands tightening into fists.

“What? Jack, no. How could--”

“It's okay. I know what people say about me, I know that Holster doesn't like me. That's probably what you were fighting about right? The night of the kegster?”

“I mean kind of, but it's not what--”

“No, it's fine. I know everyone thinks you're too good for the crazy cokehead captain, I shouldn't be surprised,” Jack spits and he's vibrating now, his despair and anxiety palpable. Justin knows he's lashing out but it still hurts to hear that Jack feels that way about himself, that he thinks Justin would treat him that way.

“Jack. I am not ashamed of you and I don't think I’m too good for you. Hell, if anything, I think you're way out of my league. Holster noticed how I was looking at you, and I was worried that if you noticed you would call it off completely. So I decided that backing off was the best way to address it. I'm sorry. I didn't think about how that would look to you.”

Jack looks away, his jaw clenching. Justin runs a hand down his hair and sighs again.

“Look, I want this to be whatever you want and I'll take whatever you'll give me. But you can't do this. You can't lash out and freeze up and treat me like shit because you're hurting.”

He can tell that Jack has more to say, but they both know that his response would be less than satisfactory; his emotions are still running too high. He nods stiffly instead and sets about picking up the pucks, not saying another word. Justin should help, but he figures his presence will just make things worse. He glides off the ice and removes his skates, lacing them and throwing them around his shoulders.

“You know where to find me,” he says, leaving without waiting for Jack’s response.

 

***********

  
  
Justin is in his room wallowing over his conversation with Jack. He thinks that he may have been a little too harsh and pushed him away, but he knows that Jack would have kept digging until it got worse and worse. Intellectually, he knows that it needed to be said, but the people pleaser in him is already thinking of a million ways to apologize. He’s resolved to sleep it away when his phone vibrates.

 _Captain Zimm_ : _i'm sorry.  
Captain Zimm: will you come over?_

Justin is up and out of bed before he can even think about it. He grabs his charger too; he has a feeling this is going to take a while. He pads softly down the steps and knocks on Jack’s door, entering when he hears Jack’s soft _come in_.

Jack is propped up against his bed cast in the soft yellow light of his desk lamp, wearing one of Justin’s hoodies and chewing on his lip. It hits Justin in his core to see Jack wearing his clothes, and he knows right then that he will give this man anything he asks for. He closes the door behind him and Jack scoots down into the bed and lifts up the covers.

“Will you lay with me?” he asks, and Justin’s feet are moving without his permission. He hesitates before climbing in and Jack grabs his hand, tugging gently.

“Please,” he says softly, “I think better when you're close to me.”

Justin nods and climbs into the soft comfort of Jack’s arms, laying with his back to Jack’s chest. He can feel his limbs softening and molding to Jack, as Jack lays one arm around him cautiously. Justin pulls him closer and keeps their hands clasped. He feels Jack take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for acting the way I did. You didn’t deserve that, and I should have talked to you instead of jumping to conclusions,” Jack says.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, we both know that there are reasons why you reacted that way.” Justin says. “I forgave you before I even made it out of Faber.”

Jacks presses a kiss to Justin’s head. “I don’t want this to stop. I don’t know what I want it to be, but I know that I want it.”

Justin is silent for a moment, just listening to Jack’s calm breathing. He heard Jack’s words but he had a hard time reconciling that with the voice in his head that’s been telling him that Jack wouldn’t think this is something worth fighting for.

“It doesn’t have to _be_ anything. It doesn’t have to meet anyone else’s definitions.”

“I know, I wasn’t saying that. I’m just saying that I want it to be something. You mean a lot to me, Justin, you're not just something I’m doing until I’m not anymore.”

“Are you sure? I know that this started just because you could tell that I needed someone and you’ve been that. And I hope I’ve been that for you too. But don’t feel like, obligated to keep being that.”

“I don’t feel obligated. I _want_ to be with you,” Jack insists.

“Okay.” Justin says. “Okay. So do you want people to know about us?”

“If that’s okay with you? I don’t know. I’m not really concerned one way or another. I never kept us in my room because I was ashamed or something. I just. I don’t do well with public displays of affection? But I’ll get better about it, if that’s what you need.”

“No, I don’t want you to change for me, Jack. I just want to make sure that I know where we stand.” Justin says, smiling softly at Jack’s offer.

“So we don’t have to go screaming about it but. If you’re asked, you can say that we’re together. Is that okay?”

Justin nods and rolls over so that they’re face to face. Jack looks worried and nervous, a light blush dusting his cheeks. Justin cups his face and crawls over him, straddling his lap. He remembers the night Jack asked them what they were, the first night they were together, and it makes him grin. Jack smiles up at him a little self consciously, his hands gripping Justin’s hips. Justin leans down and kisses him; it’s mostly teeth because Justin can’t seem to stop smiling.

“Jack Zimmermann. Are you asking me out?”

Jack gives Justin one of his rumbling giggles. “That depends. Are you saying yes?”

Justin laughs and nods, meeting Jack halfway in a kiss. It’s deep and heady and so full of joy that Justin thinks his chest might explode with it. It feels like the first calm breath you take after a long cry, like hugging your family after a long time away.

Kissing Jack feels like coming home.

Justin is worried about how this will turn out, and who they’ll be after it, but as long as he can keep kissing Jack Zimmermann, he thinks they might be okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wowow welcome to the end of this monster, I LOVE them so much and I just had to do a whole entire piece for them. They make me feel so... blue. But in a good way. 
> 
> Anywhom, come yell at me on [tumblr](https://oluranurse.tumblr.com) and dont forget to leave me a fuckinggggg comment, I’m very lonely 
> 
> (Oh shout out to Paulina for cheer reading, you’re incredible honey i loooove you)


End file.
